


It Begins

by ravenjeep2001



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural Novels - Various
Genre: Based on the Rising Son comic series, Episode: s04e03 In the Beginning, Gen, and
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-07-18
Packaged: 2017-12-19 05:42:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/880093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenjeep2001/pseuds/ravenjeep2001
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mysterious character puts certain events in motion that will affect future generations of Campbells and Winchesters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I cosplay "H" from the comic series "Rising Son". I always wondered where H came from and was inspired to write his backstory as I was driving down the road in my Jeep.

****

 

I was there the day she was born.  From the first moment I saw her I knew she was destined for greatness. 

Three days before the factory had been abuzz with the celebration of an ordinary car that would, most likely, wind up in some backwater junkyard in an even more backwater town…left to rot, forgotten and ignored by all but the rats.  There was nothing special about it other than it marked a “milestone” for the company.  One hundred million cars.  Who cares?  It’s just a number.  The car before me…now this car will change the course of history!  She will never be famous, like Elvis’s pink Cadillac, and she will never carry anyone of political importance.  Still, there is something very special here; something that sets this car apart from all the millions of other cars out there.  It is the sign I have been waiting a very long time for and I need to ensure she gets into the right hands.

It is April 24, 1967 and it is finally time to put certain events into motion.  Through my influence I ensure that this car is put on a truck to a dealership in Lawrence, Kansas.  This small town is the epicenter of everything.  It is from here that this car will begin her great destiny.  I need to leave Janesville now.  If everything is going to go according to plan I must meet this car in Kansas.  I must ensure she gets the right owner.

To avoid causing trouble I take the long way to Kansas…a bus.  Sitting here, crushed in amongst the dregs of humanity is almost more than I can take.  I bear it, though, because of the importance of my mission.  The ride is long and insufferable; I long to crush the life out of the grossly obese woman beside me who refuses to stop talking about her damned dog.  As if a mongrel mutt had any importance for me.  I consider summoning my dog at the next rest stop but I do not want to cause undo attention.  I grit my teeth and try to ignore this corpulent waste of flesh. 

At long last the bus arrives in Lawrence, Kansas.  The fat cow tells me to have a nice day and it is all I can do not to snap my fingers and erase this blight from existence.  I still have a few days before the truck arrives so I walk through the town to get a measure of the place.  It is a nice town.  Bucolic and calm.  I think I could enjoy settling down here.  The smell of charred meat wafts through the air and I realize that I am quite hungry.  I cross the street and enter Jay Bird’s Diner.  I can hear the sizzling of flesh coming from the kitchen.  The aroma makes me smile and I take a seat at the bar. 

“What can I get for ya man?”  I look up at the…person…standing before me.  The long shaggy hair, the handlebar mustache, and what looks like the skin of a shaggy goat adorn what could, quite possibly, be the most pathetic excuse for a human being I have ever seen.  His eyes, hiding behind enormous lenses, are glazed and distant.  There is a distinct odor of stale, burned leaves and unwashed clothes.  I blink to clear my thoughts and say “coffee and a steak, thanks”.  “Right on man.”  I just sit there and shake my head.  Hippies. 

I’m halfway through my steak and on my third cup of coffee…despite the idiot serving, the food is actually not bad and I’ve had worse coffee…when they walk in, a middle aged man and woman and their daughter.  There is something about these people.  The way they carry themselves is different.  There is a confidence there born of adversity.  These are people who have seen bad things and survived.  No.  Not just survived but thrived!  I watch this small family carefully. 

“Sam!  Good to see you!  You too Dea!  Have a seat I’ll be right over.”  The stentorian voice booms from the kitchen.  I look up to see a huge man in a stained white apron shove his way through the kitchen door.  He grabs Sam’s hand with a great meaty hand.  “How you been, Sam?  We’ve missed you around here.  How was your vacation?”  “Not bad Jake.  Not bad.  How are you and the wife?”  “Bah, you know how it is.  She spends more money than I can make!”  They both laugh at what is obviously a private joke.  The man called Sam looks tired but happy.  His “vacation” must have gone well…or not.  He walks with a slight limp and I can see the faint outline of a bandage under his jeans.  The proprietor of the restaurant, Jake, leans slightly over the table which creaks ominously under the man’s prodigious weight.  “Mary!  How you doing girl?  Every time I see you you’re bigger!  What are your parents feeding you on that farm of yours, huh?”  She laughs and turns away, blushing a little.  I notice there is a small scrape on the side of her head as she brushes her hair over her ear.

The woman, apparently “Dea” says “Jake, honey, leave the poor girl alone!  If you’d come over more you wouldn’t miss so much between visits!”  “Ahhh, Dea, you know I can’t leave the ‘Bird for a second!  Reg here would run the place into the ground…if my wife didn’t bankrupt it first!”  They all laugh loudly.  It is clear to me that this family is well known in this town.  I will need to tread carefully here.

I finish my meal and leave.  Time to find a place to stay while I work.  I find a small motel that will suit my needs nicely.  The décor is extremely tacky but it’s cheap and it has its own small kitchen. 

I need to make a “call”. I walk down the alleys of the town looking for what I need.  I smell it long before I see it.  There, sprawled amongst the garbage behind a seedy looking bar lies one of the lowest forms of humanity I have ever seen.  He will not be missed.  He does not even wake as I grab his hair and tilt his head backward.  The smell of him is revolting but I will not have to put up with it long.  I carefully prop the ancient bronze bowl on his chest and remove my dagger from its scabbard.  There is something magical about killing a man this way.  The razor sharp steel, even more ancient than the bowl, slices effortlessly through the layers of flesh.  His sacrifice will not be in vain and I relish the feel of his warm blood as it spurts across my fingers.  The bowl fills quickly.  The primordial liquid sloshes gently as I reverently lift the bowl from his chest.  His death rattle is quiet and short.  He never even woke up.  Surely, I have done this poor sot a favor.

Gently, I stir my offering and whisper the incantation.  The viscous fluid bubbles gently.  “I’ve found them.  The car is on its way here.”  More bubbles.  “Yes.  They are perfect!”  I wave my hand across the bowl and the blood drains away.  Taken by Him.  The sacrifice has been made.  Events are in motion.  It begins.


	2. Chapter 2

It takes me most of the next day but I finally find the Campbell farm.  Clever how they hid the Devil’s Trap under the porch steps.  The light is fading quickly and I am fortunate that the family is not home.  I walk around the house and find it is well guarded.  There’s more than just one Devil’s Trap and all of them very cleverly hidden.  It’s actually quite remarkable the way they have worked the protection sigils into the trimwork of the house.  I am rather impressed.  It is clear to me that they have been in this business for a long time.  Even the barn is protected.  If not for my experience I would not have been able to get this close.  Yes, this is definitely the family I have been looking for.  I steal away to wait for nightfall and the family’s return. 

Night falls on the Kansas prairie.  The full moon pushes above the horizon, its pale light throws long, black shadows across the earth.  I wait in those shadows, patient and alert.  I hear the truck long before I see the lights poke around the corner.  It’s an old Chevy pickup, early ‘50s by the look of it and looks long past its prime.  The white paint long patinaed a rusty red lends it a certain charm but it has clearly not had an easy life.  Still…the engine has been well cared for and despite the mileage it sounds strong as it rumbles past me.  It seems a shame for it to die such an ignoble death.

With a regretful sigh I wave my hand as the truck passes.  A loud clunk and a piercing shriek explode from under the hood, followed by billowing smoke.  I duck as something ricochets off the tree I’m standing next to.  The truck comes to a screeching halt.   Both doors open and the family jumps out.  Smoke pours from the inside of the truck.  I might have over-done it a little.  At any rate, the truck is not going anywhere and the Campbell family is still three miles from their farm. 

Samuel opens the hood and is greeted with a face full of hot smoke.  “God DAMMIT!!!!”  The string of curses that follows would make a sailor proud. 

“SAMUEL!!!!” 

“Dammit, Dea, I just gave this goddamn truck a tune up last week!  There’s no reason for this!”

“Samuel, as old as this truck is and with the mileage we’ve put on it I’m surprised it’s lasted this long.”

“I know, I know.  Dammit, but we can’t afford to buy a new car right now!”

Lightning flashes.  A few seconds later thunder rolls across the grassland.  Clouds begin to pass in front of the moon.

“Oh this is just great!”  Samuel angrily slams the hood down.  It is too much for the old truck and the rusty bumper falls to the ground landing heavily on Samuel’s foot…just as large raindrops begin to splash the dusty ground.  I can’t hide a grin at the cliché.  When it rains it pours.  My work here is done and I hurry back to my motel room before it gets too wet.

The next morning I am up at dawn.  I would have loved to have been at the Campbell place when they finally got home but it was raining heavily and there were certain preparations I needed to make.  Today is delivery day.  The car will arrive at its destiny and I must ensure that she’s ready to meet the Campbells.  As I walk to the Jay Bird’s Diner I see a tow truck drive by with an old rusty Chevy truck hanging forlornly off the back.  I smile as the tow truck turns down the street toward the junkyard.  It is sad that this faithful truck had to die but its death will not be in vain.

I take a seat at the bar and am, once again, greeted by the pathetic hippie, Reg.  His bloodshot eyes watery and…blank.  I could be mistaken but it looks like he’s wearing the same clothes he had on when I was in here yesterday, and the day before.  I still don’t understand why he’s wearing a goat. 

Steak, eggs, hash browns, and coffee this morning.  While this place may have its shortcomings, the food is good.  Jake certainly knows his way around a kitchen.  Once my job is complete I might consider staying here for awhile.  It’s been a long time since I’ve stayed in one place for any length of time.  Who knows, it might be nice.

I’m almost finished with my breakfast when Samuel walks into the diner.  He is clearly in a black mood and the temperature of the place seems to drop ten degrees when he enters.  Jake muscles his huge body through the door as Samuel takes, what is clearly, his customary booth.

“Sam!  Heard about what happened last night.  Tough luck, huh?”

Samuel sighs.  “Yeah.  My dad gave me that truck just before Mary was born.  I don’t know what happened…I took care of it like it was my own baby.”

“That’s too bad, my friend.  Sad to see it go.  That truck was something of an icon around here.  I tell you what…breakfast is on me.  Then I’ll take you down to see Richie at the dealership.  Heard he’s got a new shipment coming in later today.  I’m sure he’ll make you a terrible deal!” 

Jake slaps Samuel hard on the back and guffaws at his own joke.  Samuel grins as he shakes his head and grabs Jake’s giant paw of a hand.

“I’ll take you up on the free breakfast at any rate.  Thanks, Jake.”

“You got it.  Anything for my favorite customer!”

I hear a rumble from the street and look up just in time to see the car carrier vanish past the window.  I take that as my cue to leave.  I grab the check, pay the bill, take one last swig of coffee, and I’m out the door after the truck.

It is 7:30 in the morning and I have an hour and a half before the dealership opens.  Plenty of time to make sure everything is in place.  The dealership is on the other end of town so it is just after eight by the time I get there. 

Something is not right.  There should have been six cars on this truck.  There are only five and none of them are black!  I can only hope that the black one was unloaded before I got there but I do not see it in the lot.  Perhaps they took it into the shop?  I walk across the lot and look through the windows of the garage.  It is not there!  I am beginning to worry.  This car is everything!  This is the most important car ever to have been made!  What the hell happened??? 

I take a moment to compose myself and sit on a bench across the street to watch them unload the truck.  An overweight man in a bad suit, obviously “Richie”, bursts out of the office with a handful of papers.  He is clearly upset about something.  Probably the same thing that has prickles of fear beginning to run up my spine.  Richie and the driver argue for ten minutes.  Finally, Richie huffs inside.  The driver climbs up into the cab and drives away.  Clearly, something has happened.  I must get to the bottom of this.

A few miles outside of town I “meet” the driver.  He brings his truck to a screeching halt as I appear directly in front of him…the trailer slewing sideways onto the shoulder.  He jumps out of the cab.

“What the hell are you doing???”

I raise my hand and he stops like he ran into a wall.  His eyes bulge as I slam him into the front of his truck.  The fact that I am not touching him seems to terrify him.  Good.

“Where.  Is.  The.  Impala!”

“What the hell are you talking about?  I don’t know anything about an Impala!”

Suddenly, he gasps as I lift him off his feet, sliding him up the grill of the truck.

“There was a black Impala on this truck three days ago.  You were not scheduled for any stops before this one!  Where is the Impala!”

His face is getting a strange shade of red and flecks of spittle appear at the side of his mouth.

“I don’t know, man!  There was no Impala on the truck when I got it!  I told Richie the same thing!  Please!”

Something about his tone suggests he may be telling the truth.  But…I have to be sure.  I pull a wicked looking dagger from my coat.  The man’s eyes bulge even more and he begins to scream.  Indeed he doesn’t stop screaming for quite some time.  I’m finally convinced he knows nothing about the Impala.  Unfortunately for him, he stopped screaming because he’s dead.  His shredded corpse litters the highway.  I’m sure the police will have fun with this one.  I jump into the cab of the car carrier and carefully drive around the man’s tattered remains.

A few miles down the highway I ditch the truck, but not before taking the invoice.  Indeed, the Impala is scratched out.  The initials “CE” next to it.  I must make a call.  


End file.
